Tuesday, October 25, 2011
Saturday, October 22, 2011
The Uninteresting Life
I live an uninteresting life. I work a 9-5 job. Actually it's 8:30-5. I've often wondered about people who work 9-5 jobs, though I've never met one. Do they not take a lunch? Or perhaps they only work 7.5 hours a day. And who decided to make my job worse by adding an extra half hour of boring to my day?
Regardless, for the last two years my commute to this boring job has been upwards of an hour each way. I sit in my car, listening to the radio, caring only when my next chance to pass the on-time individual in front of me. On a rare occasion I may notice the beautiful color of the leaves or the calm of a passing graveyard. I may even wonder at the reason for a house being torn apart, a house I pass twice a day, every Mon-Fri. That's 10 times in a week; 5200 times in one year that I have passed by that house or that graveyard and how little I take notice.
For a little background. I've been out of college for a few years now, stuck in a job I hate, in a career I choose on a whim. In college I choose a photography class as one of my electives. I sat and waited for the magic of becoming a photographer. To be let in on the secret of capturing the life and soul of the things around me with a single click. The semester passed and I learned little. Certainly not enough to call myself a photographer. And such was the end of another dream.
Now a few years later, desperation has gone to the reaches of my heart to reconnect with this dream. For little more than a chance at freedom, I will try again. I will take a closer look at the uninteresting things in my life.
It is at the beginning of this journey of learning and rediscovering, that I leave you. Or rather it is where I take you, because time for a reader is different than for the writer. As it is for the photographer and her subject. As the uninteresting of time goes on, with one click it stands still. Captured forever in it's moment of interest.
Regardless, for the last two years my commute to this boring job has been upwards of an hour each way. I sit in my car, listening to the radio, caring only when my next chance to pass the on-time individual in front of me. On a rare occasion I may notice the beautiful color of the leaves or the calm of a passing graveyard. I may even wonder at the reason for a house being torn apart, a house I pass twice a day, every Mon-Fri. That's 10 times in a week; 5200 times in one year that I have passed by that house or that graveyard and how little I take notice.
For a little background. I've been out of college for a few years now, stuck in a job I hate, in a career I choose on a whim. In college I choose a photography class as one of my electives. I sat and waited for the magic of becoming a photographer. To be let in on the secret of capturing the life and soul of the things around me with a single click. The semester passed and I learned little. Certainly not enough to call myself a photographer. And such was the end of another dream.
Now a few years later, desperation has gone to the reaches of my heart to reconnect with this dream. For little more than a chance at freedom, I will try again. I will take a closer look at the uninteresting things in my life.
It is at the beginning of this journey of learning and rediscovering, that I leave you. Or rather it is where I take you, because time for a reader is different than for the writer. As it is for the photographer and her subject. As the uninteresting of time goes on, with one click it stands still. Captured forever in it's moment of interest.
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